The old man sat, crossed legged, in the soft warm light that spilled through the half open shoji doors of the ancient tea house. A Geisha beside him performed the tea ceremony while another played a koto softly in the corner.

Everything so convincingly real, had it not been for the secure SpinStream icon that floated in the far right of the Major’s visual field.

“Good morning Director,” the Major said.

“Not very Major Morris. I’ve spent it with the Joint Chiefs who, needless to say, are less than pleased with the situation in Houston. Status report.”

“I’m on Raven’s Nest now, we’ve reached the scene, should be on the ground in 15 minutes.” Images from the massive black plane floated in the air between the two men. “Simulations predict 1 hour before we have complete containment.”

“Unacceptable! Need I stress the importance of this situation?”

“No Sir, we’ll best that.”

“I would hope so, Director out.”

The image of the tea house stretched into infinity, then faded as the connection terminated.